


Soul Stories

by D_N_Arielle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confusion, Darkness, Dean likes puns, Fear, Hell, Inner Demons, Other, Punishment, Short Stories, Sorry I have a disturbing mind, Time in Hell, Torture, What happened to Dean, What will break him?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:15:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_N_Arielle/pseuds/D_N_Arielle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened during those 30 years when Dean Winchester was thrown into Hell?<br/>A plethora of stories are forever trapped inside his soul and allowing them to be told...<br/>There will be Hell to pay...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waiting for your appointment can be Hell

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, good day, hope all is well!
> 
> Sorry Sorry I am organizing some things!!!
> 
> I decided to properly write some stories about Dean and his time in Hell, instead of just half ass a story line!
> 
> I didn't really want to include any other characters besides Dean so if anyone else seems familiar I assure you they are not!
> 
> So.... that's about it! Haha *Awkward*
> 
> Anywho... There is torture and unpleasantness ahead so please do not read it those things bother you! We all know he makes it out so don't fret too much!
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!

In a cruel world full of darkness and despair, the waiting room of a dentist’s office was the last place Dean Winchester expected to find himself. He knew he was heading to Hell, but had no idea how he ended up staring at faded pink and yellow walls plastered in puce flower wallpaper. Dean shifted in his seat and heard the plastic which covered the chair crinkle under his movements. Every single available table was either covered in women’s health magazines, copies of sewing monthly or strange photo albums filled with pictures of plastic plants.

Dean slowly scanned the room and had noticed several other people sitting in chairs identical to his own, reading or simply staring off at nothing in particular. He considered asking them where the Hell they all were, but decided that he didn’t want to know the answer. Dean sat back in his chair, closed his eyes, and listened to the hum of some sort of easy-listening station.

“Winchester.” A female voice came from the sliding administrative desk window.

Dean opened his eyes and looked at the woman who had called his name. She looked like a character straight out of a 1960s comedy, the kind that would play a teacher or a librarian. She wore horn rimmed glasses, with the attached chains, perched on her hooked nose. Her hair was in a high, tight bun and she had bright red lipstick smeared too far outside of the lines of her mouth. She scoffed in Dean’s general direction as she sharply waved him over to the front desk.

“Guess it’s my turn.” Dean stated to no one in particular. He got out of his chair and walked over to the desk. The woman had her eyes down cast as she was frantically clicking away at a typewriter. Dean’s eyes wander to the wall behind her desk and couldn’t help but notice every square inch was covered in cat pictures.

“I heard you aren’t crazy until you have 17 of them.” Dean smirked. “But if you hit the triple digits you get invited into the premium club. Heard you get a gold watch and everything.”

The woman didn’t react to Dean’s snide comments in the least. He thought as much and just shrugged off his audience’s inability to get a good joke. 

“Listen sweetheart, wher–” Dean’s words were abruptly cut off by a wrinkled and jewelry laden hand raised before his face in a very silencing manner. 

“Through the door.” The woman hadn’t looked up once from her typewriter and just gestured wildly in the direction of a door. 

“Thanks toots.” Dean drummed the desk as he departed. He put his hands in his jacket pockets and calmly sauntered over to the door on the other side of the waiting room.

Walking up to the door Dean realized there was no handle, window, or buttons of any kind to open it. He stopped just shy of the threshold and was about to turn around and discuss this issue with Connie the Cat lady, when the door suddenly swung open. A bright light shone through the open door causing Dean to blink several times until his eyes had adjusted. What he saw on the other side he couldn’t believe.

Actually, he could believe it since this was a dentist’s office. Through that door was a clean room full of equipment, tables, a sink and a dentist’s chair. Sitting with his back towards Dean was a hefty, balding man writing something down on a chart on top of the desk located in the corner.

“Sorry Doc I’m not due for a cleaning for another 6 months.” Dean stood in the doorway and continued to scan the room. Movement caught his attention when the supposed dentist turned around in his wheelie chair and grinned up towards Dean.

“Come on in Dean! Don’t just stand there in the door.” The man swept his arm in a welcoming motion.

If he didn’t enter the room he wouldn’t get anywhere. So Dean decided to just bite the bullet and walk into one of his most loathed places; the dentist’s office.

“Have a seat would you?” The doctor motioned towards the chair in the middle of the room. “I just need to do a quick check.”

“I gotta say Doc, I most definitely have cavities so I might as well save you the time in looking.” Dean crossed his arms across his chest and stared down at the dentist. He was met with a soft gaze full of understanding and patience from the dentist in the chair.

“Now Dean I know you’re scared.” He started. “But we have to get through this before you can move on.”

“Move onto where exactly?” Dean asked drily.

One second Dean was preparing his best excuses to use against the quack of a medical professional, and the next second he was already in the chair.

“What the fu—” Dean was hit with a splitting headache before he could utter another word.

“Take it easy there son, you’ve got a nice bump on your head.” Off to the side Dean could hear the dentist rattling a tray of tools. He tried to remember what happened to him.

“That damn cat lady hit me over the head didn’t she?!” Dean seethed.

“Ah yes, I’m afraid she did. But don’t worry, the damage isn’t permanent. Not here.” The dentist had finally wheeled himself over to the chair.

Dean watched as a silver tray of tools was placed on a small swinging table just above him. They made a small clank against the table as Dean had a chance to take a look at them. Drills, picks, and bores were carelessly left on the silver tray. The tools were dirty and covered in rust. Dean concentrated on them more through the splitting headache he was experiencing and notice they were also covered in dried blood. 

“This is a nightmare.” Dean sighed and let his head fall back onto the head rest of the chair.

“No Dean.” The dentist positioned himself at the top of the chair. “This is Hell.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean had tried to struggled when he first woke up but his arms and legs had been tightly bound. Further struggle against the now tightened head restraint was futile. The bright overhead light beamed mercilessly onto his face as the dentist placed devices on either side of Dean’s eyes.

“Tricky work this is, so try not to move.” The dentist whispered from inches away. “I promised to keep you intact for your first time.”

“What the hell does that even mean?!” Dean grunted back at the man. 

“There, all done. That wasn’t so bad now was it?” The dentist sat back in his chair and admired his work.

Strapped to a dentist’s chair with his head securely restrained, Dean couldn't do anything about the device attached to his face which forced his eyes open. He tried to breathe through the pain of the light searing into his eyeballs but anything he did was useless. 

“Get this shit off me.” He yelled while trying to find where the other man had gone.

“I’m afraid that is only the beginning, Dean.” The dentist reappeared in Dean’s line of sight, this time he was holding something. “Now it’s time to go for a little walk.”

“What?” Dean had no chance to ask any questions let alone try to find a way out of that chair. The dentist plunged a large needle straight into the centre of Dean’s left eye.

The excruciating pain radiated throughout his entire head as he screamed against what was happening to him. He tried to fight, to move away but his restraints kept him bound. His breath came in pants and he could feel a cold sweat wash over his body. He tried to concentrate on anything but it was too late. He saw the black liquid being pumped through the needle which was deep within his eye. He tried not to panic but as soon as the contents of the needle entered his system it felt as if he was on fire.

Darkness surrounded Dean as he tried to figure out what had happened. He couldn’t figure out where he was but at least he could move a bit more freely at this point. He lifted up both wrists and gave them a squeeze before trying to take a step forward. His feet didn’t budge but Dean didn’t even know if he was actually standing on the ground or not.

Look who we have here.

A voice came out of the darkness and caressed its way across Dean’s skin like soft silk. He felt shivers stream up his spine as he tried to quiet the uncontrollable shaking in his limbs. 

“Where exactly is here?” He tried to act as unaffected as possible, but it was horribly unconvincing. Dean waited what felt like a millennia for an answer, to the point that he thought he had only imagined asking the question.

What are your worst fears, Dean?

The voice echoed through the void again. Dean was prepared for it this time and didn’t react as badly. Not like he was going to answer it though.

I can tell you.

“Like hell you can.” Dean’s limited patience had run out.

This is where you all come. You all come to tell your soul stories.

The darkness began swirling around Dean as he caught flashes and scenes cutting through the inky blackness. The deaths of his father and brother; being tortured; running from some unknown monster; countless scenes spinning around him like leaves dancing on the wind.

“You’re going to use these against me aren’t you?” He already knew the answer.

You’re famous here Dean. Have to put on a good show for you. Don’t worry, we are going to have one Hell of a good time.

With those final words Dean’s failing consciousness finally gave into the darkness. The swirling scenes of his greatest fears spinning faster and faster until they were torn into a million pieces. Silence returned to the darkness once more.


	2. The boy in the room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright!
> 
> Now hopefully this story has some more context... Maybe it still doesn't make sense... Sorry!!!
> 
> I love getting story suggestions! My poor tired brain can only think up so many ways to torture someone!!! Comments are also very welcome!!!
> 
> Anywho.... Enjoy if you haven't already read this one! Sorry I moved things around *Bows*

Watch what you think, he can read your mind.

A faint smell of cold stone and dampness clings to the air as if it had no means of escape. The darkness of the room seemed to clot every available corner and leech itself into every surface including the boy seated in the centre of the room. A rattling of chains knock against the chair arms and legs as the boy shifts his weight from side to side, trying to force blood back into his immobilized limbs. His head hangs downwards towards the floor, tilted to one side, listening for inevitable footsteps. 

The boy tightened his grip on the left arm of the chair, trying to loosen the biting chains enough to slip his hand through. He no longer cared about damaging himself in the process.

“There’s no point trying to escape.” A disembodied voice floated through the darkness.

The boy stopped abruptly. It felt as if his blood turned cold and froze right in his veins, his heart stopping for fear of being heard aloud.

“Please, continue to struggle, I was enjoying myself.” The voice murmured contently.

The boy listened. Shallow breathes burned in his chest as he braced himself for what was to come next. No amount of preparation could help him, but delaying the final outcome had become his only focus.

A sound came from the far right corner of the room which caught the boy’s attention. Clanking of metal on metal shot though the boy’s ears like nails being driven into his head. 

“You know this hurts me more than it hurts you right? Just tell me what I want to know and I can end this.” The voice bemused.

I don’t believe you.

Chuckling came from the corner and the boy recoiled at the sound. Careful footsteps began to draw closer and closer towards the centre of the room, enclosing on the boy.

“You know me too well.” The voice whispered in the boy’s ear. A delicate hand drew faint lines down the side of the boy’s face and along his throat tracing across his left shoulder.  
Fingers gently cupped the top of the boy’s shoulder as an adept thumb sketched his collarbone from side to side. The boy’s breath quickened in anticipation, trying to match the rhythm of the moving appendage. The boy could see nothing in the utter darkness that surrounded them; he could only feel the movement across his skin until finally.

Crack.

Searing pain shot through the boy’s shoulder as it slowly radiated along his chest, arms and penetrated deep inside his mind.

“Shh breathe, breathe.” The voice cooed. “You were right, I don’t want you to tell me anything, I only want to play.”

~ ~ ~

Sounds seemed to bound off the stone walls of the dark room they occupied. The darkness amplified every event and cruelly held those memories within its clutches for the boy to relive over and over and over. Cold stone embraced the boy as he began to stir out of the darkness. He had been moved from the chair at the centre of the room to being chained up against one of its walls.

“You’re awake. I was afraid that we weren’t having enough fun if you just fall asleep like that.” The voice sounded foggy.

The boy felt the cold stone pressed up against his back as he tried to regain his senses. His arms were pulled above his head, angled in opposite directions threatening to be pulled out of their sockets. His head pounded in agony from lingering past pain, phantom triggers prickled along the nerves of his body. The boy went to pull at the chains gripping his wrists when his heart began to race and a cold sweat broke out along his skin.  
I can’t move.

The boy tried to force his limbs to move. He struggled to shake his head or stomp his foot but to no avail. He concentrated on trying to move a single finger but no matter what he did his body would not listen to him. His heart thumped heavily in his chest as if it were trying to jump out of the cage which contained it. A part of him hoped his heart had the courage to take a leap of faith, to jump out of his chest and put him out of his misery.

“Now we can’t have that can we? I wanted to have a nice conversation with you but I’m hurt you tried to run from me.” The voice moved slowly towards the boy. He could feel the air in the room shifting as if parting like black water.

How could I run?

“You ran from me. You ran into your mind, a place I cannot reach. Well, could not reach.” A hand pressed against the boy’s chest and he shuttered. It was as cold as ice, slender and delicate but promised unimaginable terror.

The boy could only concentrate on the hand placed against him. His mind was racing as he tried to swallow the words given to him. He could no longer run, what did that mean? He couldn’t move a fraction of his body but nothing had changed. He was still chained up in this dark and horror filled room how would be ever be able to escape? The boy couldn’t think clearly. Thoughts drifted back to the presence in front of him. He tried to pull away but it was as if the one standing in front of him had a grip on his mind. It was if he was bound.

What did you do to me…?

“Oh, I knew you would be able to fight it, if only slightly.” The voice flowed across the boy’s body as if it were made razors. The boy tried to scream against the pain but no sound emerged.

“You can only scream if I let you. If I want you to be silent you will be. You do not have my permission to release your pain just yet.” The hand moved away from the boy’s chest as the voice backed away from the wall.

The boy tried to understand what was happening to him. Somehow the voice had finally accomplished it; his mind had been taken over. The boy could only think of what he was told, he could not move, he could not think of anything, he could not escape. The boy wanted to cry, scream, tear at his chains but nothing happened. Nothing would ever happen.

“I am going to ask you one more time just for the sake of it. Tell me what I want to know.” A clank came from off to the right where the voice was. He has picked up something.

You’re going to hurt me anyways.

“You are right. I am.”

~ ~ ~

The sound of scraping filled the darkness which surrounded them. Every single sound was impossibly crystal clear for the boy to hear, as he had been told. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face as he tried to concentrate on something, anything else other than what was happening to him. The gentle hand rested against the boy’s left hip bone as the knife in his right peeled away layer after layer of skin from his chest. The voice was humming softly which filled the darkness in a sweet familiarity. The boy tried to concentrate on the sound filling the room. He tried to guess what song was being hummed to take his mind off the trickling blood flowing down his stomach, his legs and pooling in a warm puddle at his feet.

“Your mind loves to wander doesn’t it?” The voice stated. “You only need to pay attention to me.” The voice leaned in closer as a knife slide along the underside of the boy’s ribcage, playing along the edge of his distended ribs before being thrust upwards and underneath the bones.

Stop, please I’ll talk please just. Stop.

The knife that had been thrust upwards under the boy’s ribcage faltered for a moment before slowly drawing back and finally being pulled out in a sickeningly wet tug.

“Speak. Speak for me and I’ll stop. I promise I will stop.” The voice leaned into the boy’s face and whispered softly. He could feel the air in the room turn warm against his remaining skin.

What you have wanted from me all this time, what I am to you. I will-

“I told you to speak” The voice shouted at the boy.

I am. I’m trying to tell you what you want to hear.

“No no no. I specifically said that you needed to speak before I would stop.” The voice closed the distance towards the boy and the tip of the knife scored down the boy’s arm from the wrist to his shoulder, opening him up to bleed.

I am speaking! I’m talking to you right now why won’t you listen!

“There is one thing you don’t seem to understand.” The voice drew back and chuckled slightly. “I didn’t just break your mind; it has been broken since the beginning.” The voice laughed deeply and loudly as the boy felt the piercing knife tear into his other arm. Unlike the first time this arm was being cut to ribbons over and over and over as if the voice could never we satisfied.

The boy could not understand what was happening as the voice began to play again. His bones broke under the force of crunching blows. His skin bubbled and sloughed off from being repeatedly burned with a white-hot branding iron. The boy tried to scream and fight against the horrors unfolding around him but no matter what he tried nothing changed. The voice continued to play with the boy with no end in sight until it all abruptly stopped.

“Your mind is weak this time around.” The voice sighed in frustration. “You used to understand so much quicker in the past.”

The boy didn’t understand what was happening he was just relieved for a break in his torture.

“What do you see?” The voice asked innocently.

The question confused the boy as he tried to think of an answer. That all too familiar hand slid along the right side of the boy’s face until it cupped his chin and tilted his head upwards seemingly to gaze into his eyes. Only that the boy could not see anything through the darkness.

“It is not the darkness you see but yourself.” The voice seemed to smile as those words were spoken.

The boy thought for a moment. A single moment to connect all of the events which had happened to him. To finally understand what was unfolding.

How can you see me?

The boy already knew the answer.

“Finally.” The voice let out a sigh of relief or possibly exuberance, the boy was not sure. “I assure you I can see you quite well, it is you that cannot see me.”

That adept hand capable of such gentleness and pain drew up from the boy’s chin. Something moved within a hair’s breadth of the boy’s face as he felt another hand being placed on the opposite side. Two hands mirrored each other as they slowly, careful traced along the nose and cheekbones of the boy. Thumbs moved back and forth against his skin in a comforting gesture which only made the boy sick to his stomach, and he knew exactly why.

“Will you finally accept me?” The voice spoke into the darkness.

Before the boy could answer the thumbs that had been caressing his cheekbones slowly moved upwards and straight into the empty sockets were his eyes had been. The boy drew in a quick breath, almost a whimper, as the voice exhale in what could only be described as pleasure.

“Now you understand. I can see everything there is about you. There is nothing I do not know, nothing I cannot control about you.” The voice spoke under his breath as it continued to search for some purpose in the boy’s empty sockets.

Endless thoughts raced through the mind of the boy as he began to understand what was happening to him. Chained to the wall in the cold stone room he could not see, he was at the mercy on the owner of the voice. As fear began to swell deep within the boy’s chest a whispered thought blew through his mind like a cool breeze. The boy calmed his heart and realized he had stopped breathing. He let out a long and heavy sigh along with releasing the tension that raked his body.

Can you hear me?

The boy directed the question at no one in particular, he was not entirely sure that he wasn’t just asking himself the question.

“Of course I can hear you, I can always hear you.” The voice breathed gently.

Hands were continuously tracing the boy’s face over and over as if it was in need of memorization. The boy relaxed under the fingers dancing over his face, he allowed his empty eyes to be poked and probed over and over, no longer being bothered by the perversion.

I wish to speak to you as only I can.

The hands stopped completely. The boy could feel a palpable shift in the room after he had spoken such words. 

“Do you… remember?” The voice chuckled warmly. “Oh, how I have waited.”

The chains which held the boy to the wall clanked and shifted as the boy regained his ability to move. Cold hands were placed on the boy’s chest pushing him firmly into the jagged stone. The boy twisted his head from side to side, trying to regain some composure among his overwhelmed thoughts. The hands began to slowly migrate up the boy’s chest with a feather light touch which brought shivers down his spine. The hands continued along the tops of his shoulders, brushing each side of his throat as the boy angled his head slightly upwards. The hands pressed into the sides of the boy’s throat as they began to slowly squeeze the flesh they held.

“Will you speak to me now?” The voice asked in anticipation as the hands squeezed tighter.

The boy knew what he needed to do. He swallowed his breathing and pushed himself off the wall and into the grip of the awaiting hands. They seemed to hesitate slightly but it was not long before the voice let out a sigh and pulled the boy’s neck even further into his grasp.

“Let me in.” The voice was barely a whisper against the boy’s face.

The boy closed their impossibly close distance to the voice with parted lips and bated breath. The hands around his throat loosened their grip as warmth flooded the boy’s mouth. As if swallowing lava the warmth poured into the boy and through his entire being.

I can read your mind.

He fell back against the wall pulling ragged breaths into his air deprived body. Pain shot through his being as tried to calm himself. The chains which had once bound his wrists came undone by some unknown force as he looked down at his once bound flesh. He was no longer the boy bound in the darkness but the man suffering repeated torture.

"This game... I am REALLY sick of this game." Dean shouted into the dark room

He had regained his sight and could make out the features of the room, unfortunately, there was no point in trying to explore any further.

Don't you want to play? 

"You were the one that gets his rocks off torturing me... maybe next time you could leave one of my arms untied." Dean yelled at the voice.

A voice chuckled softly from deep inside his mind. Dean sighed and leaned his head back against the cold stone wall.

“One of us will have to finish this game but I guess it won’t be this time.” He let out a long, heavy sigh as he felt his limbs become heavy as lead weights, pulling down against gravity.

Dean, you have truly been my favourites but our time is almost up.

"Aw really? Such a God damn shame." Dean scoffed. "Here I was hoping we'd become best pals."

Oh. We have plenty of time left before you need to move on... I have a lot more fun in store for you

"You can take your fun and shove it up your a---" Dean choked on his breath as he tried to gasp for air in a room now deprived of it.

The everlasting darkness seemed to writhe and creep towards him. Tendrils of darkness lashed at his feet as they slowly climbed up his legs, wrapping his body in unnatural warmth. Dean's head hung downwards has he could no longer hold it up by his own will, pain tore through his body like a raging fire. He wanted it to end, to be free from the relentless torture, but even death did nothing but postpone the inevitable.

Darkness enclosed around him as he slipped into death once more.


	3. A bug's life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hello!!!
> 
> I wrote another story last night but wanted to wait to see if I should publish it or not... I caved...
> 
> Here is another tale of Dean's adventures in Hell! Hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> AHHHHHHH NEVERMIND DON'T READ THIS IT IS SO AHHHHHHH WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY MIND WHYYYYYYYY
> 
> *Ahem* If you are bothered easily or have phobias I strongly suggest you don't read this... even I don't want to read this and I wrote it... So if you see mistakes it's because I didn't edit it *sorry sorry*

On more than one occasion, Dean Winchester has woken up in unfamiliar surroundings. Usually those places would be some sleazy motel or out-back of a biker bar. Waking up in the middle of a forest was definitely a first for him. Well, when he wasn’t actively hunting.

Sun shone through gapes in the wind tossed leaves gently swaying above his head. It was warm but not too hot, the breeze cooled the beads of sweat that had formed on Dean’s forehead. He went to make a move to sit up and was hit with a general ache throughout his body.

“Crap, did I get hit by a truck?” Dean moaned as he sat up and rubbed the back of his head. He took a deep breath and turned to look around him.

The forest, or wherever he was, was covered in every tree, plant and flower Dean could possibly remember. He had no clue what belonged where, but one thing he did know was that half of the foliage should not be growing next to each other. He let out another sigh and made a move to stand up.

He continued to scan the forest for any possible movement, but except for the gentle breeze passing through the trees, it was quiet. Dean decided to venture forward and figure out what the hell was going on.

Crack.

The ground shook as soon as he had heard the loud echo coming from off in the distance. He noticed the trees bending and twisting more violently than before; he didn’t want to stick around to find out what made the sound.

Running through a forest floor made of bushes, flowers, vines, cacti and numerous other plants, which Dean had no clue what to call, was a difficult task. Thorns cut at his skin as he pushed his way forward through rose covered thickets. He continued to run as the sounds grew louder behind him. Turning his head, Dean caught a glimpse of the ground moving and violently swallowing the plants and trees behind him.

“Ah screw that!” He turned and pushed harder in his run forwards. Dean could see light pouring through the trees from what looked like a clearing in the forest. He headed straight for it without a second thought.

Breaking through the trees Dean blinked wildly as the sun blinded him temporarily. He raised his hand to his face to shield himself as he looked up into the sky. The sun wasn’t the sun. A shimmering pool of liquid, which could only be described as a pool of gold, was floating in the sky where the sun should have been. The sight was so absolutely strange that it caught Dean off guard for a moment, but a moment was long enough.

Cascading through the trees and into the clearing was the earth-moving phenomenon which had found its prey. Dean tried to run but his feet had been caught in some sort of sticky webbing. It was too late.

Springing from the ground were countless vines of various shapes and sizes. Thorns adorned most of the vines as they glimmered in the light like sharp blades. The undulating mass looked more like the disgusting rotten innards of a decomposing animal rather than a plant. The smell was enough to cause flowers to wilt and die as clumps of oozing liquid fell from the vines and plopped on the ground with a sickening sound. One such vine lashed out and caught Dean by the wrist and pulled him into the air with ease. The other vines followed suit and wrapped themselves around his limbs, waist and torso, as the dagger like thorns ripped at his flesh.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Dean shouted as he tried to struggle out of the plant’s grasp. He pulled against his restraints but any movement on his end only caused the vines to tighten. A smaller vine with shark tooth thorns lashed across Dean’s chest in a quick movement, tearing his shirt and jacket to shreds.

“Oy oy oy! I’ve seen this hentai and I don’t like where this is going!” Dean yelled in a show of feigned bravado. 

As if listening to his pleas, the writhing mass of vines slowly lowered him until his feet were just barely touching the ground. He was still bound by the plant with no means of escape. Something caught Dean’s eye as he noticed the putrid oozing liquid fall more rapidly onto the ground. He followed the liquid as it slowly flowed together into a small pool. Within seconds the pool has been soaked into the dirt and could no longer be seen from his position in the plant.

A faint sound could be heard over the sounds of the wet, sloughing vines continuously rolling across Dean’s body. The sound seemed to be getting louder as Dean tried to find its source. He could feel the vibrations in his feet and in that moment it dawned on him. The sounds were coming from beneath the ground: the distinctive sound of bugs.

“Hell, fucking, NO.” Dean screamed as he watched the ground loosen under his feet and hundreds of larvae came rippling to the surface. Dean tried to pick up his feet, to move away from the horrid mass before it was too late, but his feet were firming pinned to the ground.

The small white worms broke through the surface and quickly found flesh to bury into. Every second was agonizing as Dean could feel them crawl under his skin, and eat their way deeper into his body. He continued to struggle but the daggers slicing him open only allowed worms crawling up his skin to enter his body faster. They tore their way through his flesh as they began to climb high and higher up Dean’s limbs.

The pain was indescribable but what was worse was that it wouldn’t kill him. How he wished for a quick death over being eaten alive by disgusting maggot like creatures. He tried to breathe through what was happening to him but his mind could only focus on the feeling of the insects moving under his skin. He looked down and in that moment, attempted to bite off his own tongue from what he saw.

A smaller vine whipped out of the mass and plunged itself into Dean’s mouth to keep him from biting his tongue. He tried to bite through but the shark tooth daggers lining the smaller vines only cut his gums and lips to bloody ribbons. The blood spilled out of his mouth and carved its way down his throat, following the furrowed lines of his pectoral muscles and continuing down through his abdominals. Under the small streams of blood movement could be seen. The worms had made their way up to Dean’s stomach and chest as they writhed just beneath the surface.

Every movement could be felt with such clarity as Dean willed himself to die. By some sick and cruel joke, the vine binding his mouth tightened in a downward motion which forced his head down along with it. His eyes were forced to witness the horrors of what was currently happening to his body. With his last shred of sanity he swore not to close his eyes, for fear of those too being forced open.

Wide eyed and bound, Dean watched as the worms bore clustered holes out of his stomach and chest. Small heads could be seen poking through the festered holes as they wiggled freely upon contact with their outside surroundings. Tears rolled down Dean’s cheeks as he felt them spin in their holes and continue their journey deeper into his body.

He screamed again as he felt the worms dig into his tissue, greedily trying to eat through anything in their paths. Several had climbed the vines connected to his arms and had begun to bury into his flesh, slowly making their way upwards. Visceral attacks from all sides were too much for Dean to handle. He tried to concentrate on something, anything to take his mind off what was happening to him. In that moment, the pain receded, but just for a moment. Something flashed through his mind.

Hffgurtjui.

He tried to speak through the vine in his mouth but couldn’t manage. He had given up the idea of being able to talk when the vine had suddenly removed itself just as quickly as it had bound Dean’s mouth. He took a ragged breath and tried to focus on what he needed to do, what he needed to say.

“After all of this… I had better turn into a fucking beautiful butterfly.”

Dean choked out his words with a smirk and seconds later the vine which had previously bound his mouth plunged down his throat, tearing it to shreds along the way. The worms had made their way up to his eyes and were making quick work of the soft tissues. He could feel masses of them congealed together in the sockets which once held his eyes. He had briefly wondered why not one worm attempted to enter his ears but the answer had been obvious. If he couldn’t see, and couldn’t scream, the quiet rustling sounds were as loud as thunderous storms.

In that moment of realization the pain had finally reached its apex as the worms had eaten away the majority of his organs. Even as he began to slip into death, Dean could still vividly feel everything that was happening up until the final moment. Whether the pain had finally gotten to his brain or not, Dean couldn’t help but laugh. Those bugs would have a hell of a time digesting Dean Winchester; after all, you are what you eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations you made it to the end! Here have a cookie...


	4. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!!!
> 
> I wanted to write more... Like a lot more! But unfortunately all of my time is being used to write my thesis... So if anyone wants to learn all about paint I can hook you up...
> 
> That being said I gave up on this story! I started it with a completely different direction than what it turned into! Oops! Well it's still interesting and sort of funny but not as good as my last chapter... It does introduce a character I want to bring back later so I guess it's not all bad ahahaha
> 
> Enjoy!!!!

~ ~ ~

“Good morning sleepy head! How long are you going to keep me waiting?”

A soft voice rolled through the fogginess of Dean’s mind as he tried to rouse himself out of his groggy state. He forced his eyes open with more effort than he would have liked to admit; the first thing he managed to focus on was a single candle sitting in the middle of a small table in front of him.

“Who…” Dean trailed off as he tried to focus his mind past the throbbing pain. He had been knocked out so many times that the sensation was all too familiar to him.

“Aww Dean I’m so hurt! How could you not remember me?” A voice came from off in the corner of the dark room. Gentle clicking of heels could be heard crossing the floor as the owner of the voice walked into the light. 

Standing beside the table was a woman. The fog that covered Dean’s thoughts had finally begun to subside as he tried to focus on the figure. He stared at the woman and tried to force the lazy cogs in his mind to start turning. 

“I still don’t know who you are sweetheart.” Dean scoffed in the direction of the woman “But if you mind being a doll and untying me that would be great.”

“That’s right Dean… I’m the woman of your dreams.” The woman decided to ignore Dean’s answer and continue with her speech. She either wasn’t listening or didn’t really care what was going on.

Dean sighed loudly and decided to observe his surroundings rather than pay attention to the woman in front of him. He was strapped to a tilted table in the middle of some description-less, bland room; secured tightly enough that he didn’t bother trying to fight against the bindings. Besides the table in the middle of the room, and the woman still talking away about something or other, there was nothing else. All Dean wanted to do was to close his eyes and fall asleep but the woman seemed to have other ideas.

“Are you even listening to me?!” She nagged loudly. “This is important!”

Dean opened his eyes and stared at the woman, finally giving her all of his attention. She was standing by the small table with her hands on her hips, obviously annoyed at being ignored. Dean couldn’t deny that her voluminous figure wasn’t attractive if not slightly other worldly. With long bright red hair flowing perfectly over the right side of her face, cascading down her shoulder, she seemed more like a cartoon rendition of ‘the perfect woman’. She was even wearing some sort of gravity defying sparkling red dress that left barely anything up to imagination. 

“Did you drug me on top of knocking me out? I still have no clue who you are…” Dean scoffed as he tried to shake his head clear. He briefly closed his eyes, but nothing in the room had changed.

“Dean, is that really how you want to play this game?” The woman spoke in a careful whisper, different from her earlier flirtatious tone. Dean tried to concentrate past the fog in his mind but nothing seemed real.

The woman took her left hand and gently placed it on the table next to the candle. Dean watched as she slowly inched her fingertips towards the base of the candle until they were just lightly resting against the wax drippings which ran absently in all directions. There was a shift in the room’s temperature as Dean raised his gaze upwards and saw the woman smiling back at him. He sharply inhaled just as her fingers pushed forwards to topple the candle on the table.

The candle fell gently to the side but the flame stayed in place, hovering in the middle of the table. Dean looked on in confusion as the woman passed her hand over the table back and forth, watching the flame sway with her movements. The flame began to grow with the woman’s movement until it had been formed to the same size as the table. Dean watched as the woman turned her palm upwards as if to cradle the flame like a newborn baby.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She spoke toward the flame in her hand, a look of complete admiration spread across her face. “I can’t wait to introduce you two.”

“You… can’t be serious right now.” Dean scoffed in the direction of the woman. “I’ve watched porn with better plot than this.”

Dean struggled against his bindings and let out an aggravated shout. He had really had enough of this.

“I get it really, they send some sort of succubus in here to flirt her way into getting me to lower my guard and then you torture me. Big deal. There is absolutely nothing you could do that would surprise me at this point lady.” Dean laughed at the woman standing in front of him as he cranked his head from side to side looking for a door. “Did you hear me you assholes! You’re gonna have to do better than that to keep me interested!”

Just as Dean was shouting out into the room the ball of fire floating above the woman’s hand began to writhe and flicker; she grasped the flame as if it were a living creature and hurled it directly towards the table which Dean was securely fastened to.

The flame stopped just shy of Dean’s face as he let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he was holding. His palms, sweaty from the suddenness of the encounter, shook from the adrenaline coursing through his body. Dean could only focus his attention on the heat of the flame before him, but didn’t miss the distinctive tapping of heels on stone as the woman made her way towards him.

“I’ll give you one last chance Dean.” The woman leaned over and whispered. “If you play nice then I promise I’ll give you a reward.” 

The woman grinned like a sly fox who had wandered into the hen house. She was utterly confident that she would get what she wanted out of Dean; that she always got what she wanted from everyone. Dean closed his eyes and relaxed the death grip his muscles had over his body. He took a deep breath and readied himself for what was about to happen.

“Looks mean nothing if you can’t back them up, if all you can do is talk my ears off then I’d rather be dead.” Dean smirked as he spit the words in the woman’s direction.

“Fine!” The woman seethed. “You are going to wish you had never said that!”

“Try me” Dean shouted just as the flame descended and devoured his entire body.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Dean screamed out in agony as fire tore its way across his body. The never ending flames eating away at his nerves only exposed him to a whole new world of pain. His breath caught in his throat as the woman paused in her torture.

“Finally had enough?” She seductively giggled. “I do love the sounds of your screams.”

Ragged breathes filled the silence of the room as Dean tried to concentrate. His mind had been distracted by what was happening to him but he finally had an answer.

“Stop, stop, please I’m begging you.” Dean whispered in an almost inaudible voice.

“Ohhh, THE Dean Winchester is begging to me. How wonderful!” The woman screeched in absolute glee at the turn of events. She slowly leaned over to look Dean in the eyes, caressing one side of his face ever so gently. “And why, my dear boy, do you want me to stop?”

Dean calmed his breathing and opened his eyes to look at her with undivided attention.

“There’s no way in Hell I’d ever ask for my meat to be cooked to anything but Medium-Rare… beyond that is truly sacrilegious.”

The twisted contortions of the woman’s face were the most beautiful thing Dean had seen since having to be subject to the fire witch. The pain from being engulfed in flames had subsided and he was finally able to concentrate. The woman shrieked in frustration at being taunted as she posed herself to strike the final blow. Death was only seconds away.

Ping. A light bell rang through the room and was almost inaudible over the banshee screeching bloody murder. The woman pretended not to hear anything and reposed herself to strike again. Ping. The bell rang a second time, louder and more definite than before. The woman huffed at the annoyance and stalked off towards the wall. Dean followed her movements as she placed a delicate hand on the wall, revealing a study wooden door that had been hidden from sight. Dean made note of the shape and size of the door, no piece of information was too benign not to keep for potential use in the future.

“I’m busy what do you want?!” The woman yelled at someone through what appeared to be a small window in the door, Dean couldn’t see for sure but a soft light seemed to be coming from it.

“This isn’t working Scarlett-Flicker you are letting him control you.” A voice spoke from the window.

“Scarlett!?! What?!? Flicker… Seriously!?! Why didn’t they just call you Fire Queen or Orange Amber!” Dean laughed and shouted while still smoldering on the torture table.

“Shut up! Why don’t you just shut up!” The woman screamed back at him.

“Ohhhh better yet! Crimson Barbeque!!!” Dean laughed loudly although the majority of it was coming from a place of pain and not humour, he didn’t care as long as it bothered the woman.

“Would you just shut up and burn already!?” She shouted from the doorway. “I’ve had enough of this!”

Before Dean had a chance to open his mouth again, the flames surrounding him began to burn white hot. A scream tore out of his throat as his skin bubbled and peeled away, exposing muscle and bone underneath. Every inch of his body was on fire and yet he was still conscious, still alive. Not only was this completely talentless woman annoying him in the most clichéd way possible, but she was actually succeeding in her torture by not allowing Dean to die.

“I’m not done with him yet and they said I could have the whole day to play.” Dean overheard the woman shouting out the door. He could actually picture her pouting as if she was getting ready to have a temper tantrum.

“That was before you started, you know full well that if you can’t break him all of our work will be wasted.” The voice seemed to almost slither in through the small window in the door, passing right through the woman and heard by Dean with crystal clarity. A frown formed on Dean’s face as he tried to concentrate on the voice, it seemed both familiar and completely unworldly to the point that Dean couldn’t figure it out.

“I’ve seriously had enough.” Dean shouted from the table. “Can someone please either continue this or kill me now because this boredom is worse than anything else I’ve had to put up with today.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to sh—” The woman’s words were stopped abruptly by the audible click of the door. She took a step back as she allowed room for the door to slowly open inwards towards the centre of the room.

“Now we’re finally getting somewhere!” Dean laughed at the turn of events. “Do your worst!”

A figure stepped in from beyond the door and stood silently near the woman, the light in the room seemed to shift and appear darker than before. Dean observed the figure through the flames which had continued to engulf him. However, a dark cloak shrouded the figure making any descriptions entirely impossible. The only thing Dean could notice was that the figure was shorter than the woman standing just off to the side, but her obvious obedience to their new guest interested Dean so much more.

“Come on what are you waiting for?!” Dean taunted the figure. “Need an invitation to…”

Dean was cut off so suddenly he had no clue what happened. One moment he was lying on a table in the middle of a room while simultaneously being on fire, the next he was floating in the sky. He tried to speak, to make any noise, but no sounds would come. Only his sight didn’t seem to be affected while he drifted in a sunny blue sky.

“I know I don’t need an invitation to the party, Dean… But we weren’t supposed to meet yet.” The figure appeared before Dean, floating alongside him. Only the scenery had changed but it was apparent to Dean; this figure cloaked in darkness was powerful, and yet he could feel no malice coming from it. 

“I apologize for the horrible treatment you just received.” The figure continued. “I promise the next time will be more rewarding for both parties.”

Just as Dean tried to process what he had been told, a black band of light almost 20 feet long emerged from the figure and cleaved Dean cleanly in two. He could feel the moment of shock his body went through as it struggled to comprehend what had happened, Dean struggled to breath but couldn’t catch a breathe.

“Sweet dreams Dean.” With parting words from the black figure Dean began to truly fall. He watched as the figure grew smaller and smaller in size until the moment be hit the ground and died... Again.


	5. Alternate realities don't grant wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good day to you all!
> 
> So I decided to modify a short story I had lying around collecting dust... This was the result...
> 
> I think it's an interesting take on an alternate story line or 'what ifs' and I still technically get away with the whole 'no repeating characters even if they seem similar' mwahahahaha
> 
> That being said it does feel a tad forced to me so my sincerest apologies *bows*
> 
> My next story is written solely for Dean so he will be front and centre next time! Don't know when that will be done though so... Sorry!
> 
> Okay that's all... Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> ~ ~ ~

“Mary…. Mary!” A shout rang out from down the hallway, bouncing off the walls.

The girl heard her name being called but didn’t care to answer, she knew it would only cause her trouble.

“Mary, answer me or I’m going to leave without you!” The voice was further away now.

Don’t answer him.

A faint whisper blew through the room as if a slight breeze had entered through the window. Mary jumped up as if shocked but more so out of surprise than fright. She searched around the room to try to find the source of the voice but to no avail. Mary let go of a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and organized her papers into a neat pile before preparing to stand.

“John I’m here don’t leave without me!” The girl got up from her little desk and headed towards the door.

The sun was shining down from a clear blue sky as the boy and the girl stepped outside. Their little cottage was nestled at the base of a grand mountain. A beautiful field of wildflowers stretched out before them as far as the eye could see while a dark and powerful forest rose up behind the cottage and into the mountainside.

“Why didn’t you answer me sooner?”

Mary stood in the sun and looked at the boy. John was a few years older than her but seemed much more so with his mature and sometimes overbearing nature. He carried his lean, powerful figure with grace and purpose. Short, messy hair framed his face perfectly as she followed the curves of his high cheek bones and strong jaw, finally meeting his gaze. Dark brown eyes watched her with slight curiosity but also showed underlying dark intentions normally reserved for the stare of a large cat. She sighed at the sight and could feel her brow knitting.

“I don’t want to go to the market.” Mary looked away and off into the distance.

“Is there a reason?” John gave a slight chuckle and started to close the distance between them.

“You know the reason John.” Mary braced herself for what was coming.

“Mary, look at me please.” John was now standing within inches of her. Mary gripped her arms tightly across her chest and stared straight forward; she did not want to look into those eyes.

“Mary…” John whispered, reaching out his hand.

John softly, gently slid his fingers down the side of Mary’s face, being careful not to get caught in her wavy blonde hair. She looked up at him and winced as she finally met his eyes. The dark predatory gaze that stared back at her was enough to send shivers running down her spine; it took all of her strength to continue standing on solid ground.

“I asked you a question” John cupped his fingers on Mary’s chin.

Run.

Again, a whisper seemed to come from nowhere but this time Mary did not react. Her gaze still trapped by the boy in front of her and all she could do was listen.

“Hmm? Shall I ask again?” He leaned in and whispered.

A hand shot out like a snake from the grass and adept fingers wrapped themselves around the girl’s throat. The force of the strike caused the boy and the girl to lose their balance and fall backwards onto the wildflowers. Mary tried to bring her arms out from across her chest but they were pinned by the weight of John’s body straddling her.

“You know I hate doing this.” John gripped tighter, squeezing the last ounce of breath from her throat.

Mary struggled to breathe; trying to focus her sight, as darkness clouded her eyes. Her throat burned with the desire to scream but no sound would come as she fell backwards into the abyss.

Coolness enveloped Mary as she drifted through the darkness of the abyss as she slowly opened her eyes. Not surprisingly she could see nothing, not even her own hand in front of her face. She concentrated in the darkness to try to hear a sound, any noise which might ring out from around her. Nothing. She laid back and relaxed the tension which had built up around her, allowing her body to float weightlessly and waited in a world of darkness.

 

~

 

“So, Dean, what do you think of my world?”

Floating through the darkness Dean could see everything that was happening. He watched as the young couple lived their lives in the cottage by the mountain. Mary and John Winchester… except they were not his parents. He looked on in vain as the boy raged and tormented the girl for no reason that Dean could see. The darkness held within the boy was all too familiar to Dean but that rage always had an outlet through hunting. Did the darkness always exist within his father? Dean shook his head at the question; THAT disgusting thing was not his father, he was one of the monsters needing to be hunted.

“How do you think I like it?!” Dean spat back at the voice in the darkness “You’re sick you son of a bitch.”

The voice chuckled to itself as Dean continued to seethe and not be able to do anything about it.

“I quite enjoy playing with these two… Your parents.” The voice paused for a moment before continuing. “Try as hard as you can but you will never reach them. Now just relax and watch me work.”

Dean felt helpless floating through the abyss as he watched the girl who looked just like his mother suffer at the hands of his father. He tried so hard to separate the two but the task was so difficult. Dean could do nothing as an ethereal existence except watch what was happening in the alternate lives of his parents.

 

~

 

You seem calm child.

A voice sang through the darkness and seemed to pass through Mary as if she were air. It was such a strange sensation to feel a voice rather than to hear it.

“…” Mary forgot she could not speak in this world.

Project your thoughts child and I shall take them in.

Mary brought her hands together across her stomach and began to entwine and release her fingers over and over in order to calm herself.

I am not your child. She thought of the words and they formed into existence, slowly drifting out of her body.

Somewhere in the darkness the voice laughed. It was similar to the morning song of a small bird perched on a dew covered branch. The bird-like laughter began to die and silence fell once again. Mary relaxed herself into the darkness once more.

It frustrates me to no end that you feel no desire to follow human instinct. Where any one person in the world of light would be asking irrelevant questions, you lay in the darkness as if it were your own bed.

Mary opened her eyes. She did not need to do so as they could not see, but she felt compelled to as she answered the voice in the abyss.

How dare you assume to know me! You are the one that keeps pulling me into this darkness!

The words did not drift from Mary as they had before; instead they felt sharp as if they were small razors scoring her skin. She would have liked her words to cut the voice instead but the thought was useless, it would not be affected by such trivial things.

If you wish to speak then do so now. Before the others return.

The others. Where were the others?

I… who… The words would not come. She had to calm herself to form thoughts into substance but fear had gripped her body. Why did she only think of this now? In one instance there was only her and the voice, how did she forget about ‘them’?

John, where is John? Why did she ask such a stupid question? She knew he was in the world of light and she was in the abyss. Fear gripped her body even tighter as if wrapped up in a constricting blanket.

Silence surrounded her as the fear coursed through her body, it did not normally take the voice so long to answer her questions.

Screw that son of a bitch you’re better off without him!

That same strange whisper blew through her mind like a warm breeze. She tried to focus on the whisper that had entered her mind and was able to finally calm herself from the fear that had been about to drown her. She had no understanding of why, but the whisper seemed familiar to her in some manner. She tried to concentrate on figuring out where she knew it from but nothing came to mind. The confusion lingered and bothered her more than it should have.

What? Mary had calmed herself enough to pose the question.

There is no need for you to be concerned with that. 

Mary recognized the voice of the one she always had to deal with and sighed in frustration that the fragile whisper hadn’t answered her. She was almost convinced that she had made it up and that there was no other voice. But try as she might a sliver of her mind held onto the idea that someone was watching over her.

I wish to return. Mary released the breath she had been holding and tried to will her body to move. It was time to go back and see what damage had been done.

An unimaginable pain seared through her body beginning at her feet and crawling up the length of her legs. She writhed in the darkness and began to claw at her legs to relieve the pain, as it slowly started moving across her stomach and into her chest before pulsating towards her neck. She struggled in agony trying to scream but no sound would emerge. Mary wished to be granted death but no matter what she tried to do the unbearable pain would not stop. 

As you wished, you shall return.

A warm breeze gently blew across the meadow of wildflowers. The light summer dress Mary wore fluttered along with the wind and she slowly began to stir awake. She wondered why she could only feel the breeze across her body and not the sun-rays on her face, and why she felt warm but not from the sun. As she opened her eyes Mary stared straight into the awaiting gaze of John and the fear which had gripped her in the abyss suddenly returned.

“You’re awake.” John stated plainly while still staring into her eyes.

“I…ahem…I am.” Mary had to clear her throat before she could finish speaking. 

She searched his face that was so close to her own and could clearly see that he showed no signs of emotional response to their situation. If anything, John seemed less connected to the reality around them than before she fell into the abyss.

“Let me up John, I want you to tell me what happened.” Mary slowly sat up while John supported her back; she went to push herself off the ground when he stopped her by placing his hand on her knee.

“Do you remember anything?” John had leaned over slightly to be able to continue to look into Mary’s eyes.

Mary could never get a straight answer out of that boy. She would ask him questions and he would always choose to ignore them. She knew that he chose to ignore her because once she had asked him something similar in the past and he answered with ‘I don’t wish to say’. Everything about him was a secret… at least that was what he thought.

“Just like last time I don’t remember anything. How long was I asleep? The sun did not seem to move much so I guess it was only a few minutes.” Mary was rambling, she just wanted to get up and leave.

“It was only a few minutes; you woke up very quickly this time.” John spoke softly to her, never drawing his gaze from her face. She could only endure keeping eye contact with him for a small amount of time before it became unbearable. As that thought passed she realized he had begun tracing circles on her back where he was supporting her, his other hand squeezing her knee as if trying to bring her closer to him.

“John…” Mary began to fidget, she wanted to pull away.

“They spoke to me this time.” John’s gaze finally broke.

It felt as if someone had punched Mary with all their might. She could not catch her breath which caused her to fly into a panic; she began to struggle to get out of John’s embrace as quickly as possible. He would not let her move. As she turned to get up he pulled her back into his lap and wrapped his hands around her stomach, pinning her back against himself. Mary could feel her face become damp as she started to cry. She could not take it anymore, she’d had enough.

“Mary, please. Don’t cry.” John whispered softly into her ear. He was holding her so tightly.

The tears were starting to subside, she was angry again at her reactions. She could not help herself though, this was a first. Not only did John actually tell her something but never in the past had he admitted that he had spoken to the other voices.

Mary…

That faint but familiar whisper came to Mary once more. She calmed herself and stopped struggling against the arms that held her so securely. She took a deep breath and tried to focus herself before continuing. Small fleeting moments of kindness and compassion reminded her that John was still with her, if only momentarily.

“Mary it’s time to go.” John pulled back from his hold on her and began to stand. Mary had no time to process the sudden change and before she knew what was happening he was already standing over her.

“Wait, wh- what?” Mary was at a loss for words but instead of sitting in the middle of a field in utter disbelief, she decided to pick herself up and move forwards.

John began to leave before Mary could ask him anything further. She watched his broad back as he walked away from her as she felt tears well up in her eyes once more.

Don’t cry over the likes of him.

Mary could hear the voice once more and felt a weak smile spread across her face. She closed her eyes and composed herself before setting off to follow the boy in front of her.

“I don’t know who you are but thank you.” Mary whispered underneath her breath. “Ever since the darkness visited us both he has been… different. Cruel and torturous I can no longer see the boy I once knew in his eyes. But for the life of me I cannot him leave alone.”

But he’s not even human-

 

~ 

 

Dean’s words were cut short as the entity behind all of this shut down his connection to Mary. Dean struggled as he tried to reach out to her once more, to warn her to leave the creature that John Winchester had become.

It is not your place to interfere! The voice shouted at Dean for pushing through the boundary that separated them from the world of the light; from Mary and John Winchester.

“Oh I am so sorry, did I mess up your plans?” Dean smirked to himself in the darkness as he finally felt a bit better. He had no proof, but he knew that she had heard him. Even more importantly Dean knew she understood.

I think it’s time for you to leave. The irritation flowing through the darkness was palpable as Dean smiled wider at the thought of pissing off one of Hell’s minions.

“Damn, and I was just starting to have fun.” Dean felt the darkness shift around him as if being constricted by a monstrous animal. He tried to focus but in his state there was no point, he had no control over where they sent him or how he was going to get there. The only thing he could control was what he did once he arrived.

Dean fought against the life slowly being squeezed from him as he glimpsed one last time at the world of light. John, or the creature that wore his face, was marching forward towards his destination of the afternoon market without a care for his surroundings. Mary on the other hand was strolling casually through the wildflowers in the meadow and humming to herself softly. Dean gasped as he recognized the sound of the nursery rhythm she would often sing to him as a child. Mary turned her face towards the sky above her and Dean could have sworn she smiled, just before the darkness finally enveloped him. The last thought he had before death came once more; be careful what you wish for, they might not be granted in your favour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S - I have a bit of a fever so I'm not sure if that made sense... Sorry about that!


	6. Where’s the leak Ma’am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello good day!!!
> 
> I seem to be on a writing spree because of course I have a bunch of deadlines coming up... Why would I want to work on those when I could write fun murder stories!?!
> 
> This one is a bit short, I just wanted to do a little something to add to soul stories but I'm happy with this one. I'd love to do some silly deaths so I might do that for the next one!
> 
> Feel free to leave kudos and comments!!! I LOVE GETTING BOTH IT MAKES ME REALLY HAPPY WHICH MAKES ME WRITE MORE!!!
> 
> Okay, okay that's it... Have fun!!!

~ ~ ~

One of these days Dean would like to awaken and not be surrounded by darkness. Unfortunately, today would not be that day. His head felt heavy as he slowly tried to bring himself out of groggy unconsciousness. A cold dampness surrounded him as Dean reached out to feel his way through the darkness. Under his hands was a cold stone floor that was slick to the touch with some sort of slimy film. He could smell a distinct tinge of salt in the air as he tried to further compose himself.

“And what lovely adventure awaits me this time?” Dean sighed in the darkness and could hear the sounds reverberating off the walls.

He sat up in the darkness and tried to get a feel for the size of the space he was in. With one hand pressed against the floor behind him he found a small stone which he carefully picked up and rolled around on his palm. He gently tapped it against the ground a few times and listened for the echo. Satisfied that the walls were not within an arms-length of where he was sitting, Dean threw the stone and counted the time it took to hear a sound. Not long after the toss he heard the distinct click of stone on stone in the direction of his toss. It wasn’t far off so Dean brought himself to a standing position, being careful that he wasn’t going to bash his head into the ceiling, and headed in the direction of the thrown stone. 

In the thick inky darkness Dean managed to find the walls, slick with that same slimy film, and discover the boundaries of the space he was in. It seemed to be a round cavern of some sort about the size of a large room. He reached up to try to find the ceiling but it was not within arm’s reach. Dean spent more time than he would have liked to admit trying to find a way out of that dark cave.

“Well then…” Dean sighed in frustration and sat down on the cold stone floor. “Guess I’ll take a nap.”

With no way of escape and nothing left to do Dean sat down on the floor and tried to think. He couldn’t help letting his mind wander off to thoughts of his brother and the fight he left behind. Dean shook his head to get rid of the images since there was no helping it now that he was in this situation.

Crack.

The sound filled the cave with a thunderous clap that shook the walls and startled Dean out of his thoughts. Once the aftershocks had died down Dean sat still in the darkness and tried to figure out what was happening. A strange sound seemed to be bubbling up from beyond the walls and Dean pressed an ear to the cold stone to try to listen. 

Crack.

Another thunderous sound ripped through the dark cavern and forced Dean from the stone wall. He tried to look around in the darkness but his sight had been completely stolen from him. Silence slowly returned as Dean sat motionless, trying to find his bearings once more. The same bubbling he had heard previously was slowly getting louder and louder as Dean tried to find out where it was coming from.

Dean moved to stand once more when he noticed a shallow pool of water had formed underneath him. He tried to remember when it had formed but before he could gather his thoughts Dean heard a small gurgling coming from close by. He fumbled over to the stone wall through the now ankle deep water as he reached out to feel his way along the rough surface. Panic was slowly bubbling from deep within Dean who tried to calm himself as best he could. He needed to find out where the source of the water was coming from.

Dean bent down in the now knee deep water and could feel the rush of a current coming in through a crack in the stone wall. A cold sweat broke out down Dean’s back as he realized how fast the water was filling the small cave he was trapped in. Dean felt around to figure out if he could block the hole, wondering if he could block the water using his jacket as a plug. He tried to reach in and feel around at the dimensions of the crack when suddenly he felt something brush against his fingers.

Dean jumped back in surprise and scrambled away from the direction of the crack. Water was gushing at a rapid pace as Dean found the other side of the stone room. He tried to bring himself to a standing position only to slip and fall back into the water. The darkness robbing him of his sight, Dean couldn’t help but panic. His head broke the surface as he had to tread water in order to stay afloat. The cold darkness surrounded him as it had grown eerily quiet from the room slowly filling with water. Dean didn’t stay still for long as he carefully followed along the wall in a despite attempt to find a way out.

As he struggled against the rising water Dean felt like something brushed past his legs. He swore under his breath and kicked out in the water but hit nothing in the murky darkness. He turned back to the stone wall with an overwhelming urge to find a way out as he continued to struggle again the rising water. The slime covered walls kept Dean from securing his grasp on the stones; he caught his hands on the jagged surface, cutting his palms to ribbons; ignoring the pain, Dean pressed forward. The rising water appeared to increase as Dean tried to escape his prison. He was violently pushed upwards and in that moment, he felt his head hit the roof of the cave. He had finally run out of time.

Dean really hadn’t wanted to die by drowning, it wasn’t the best way to go but in that moment he reserved himself to his fate. Dean took several deep breaths to prepare him for going underwater when he suddenly saw a shine of light come from the bottom of the cavern. Like a beacon in the darkness Dean was drawn to the light and without thinking of anything else, breathed deeply once more before going underwater in the direction of the light.

The cold water hit Dean in the face as he dove deeper towards the light. He reached it in a matter of seconds and realized the light was coming from the crack that had formed and let the water in, as well as something else. Dean reached into the opening and realized it had widened from the pressure of the water and it was now just big enough to squeeze through. Without wasting any time Dean pressed forward through the small opening, following the source of the light out of the stone cave. The space was so narrow it was difficult for Dean to even try to crawl through. He reached out with his arms and grabbed the sides of the small tunnel to pull him forward, cutting up his body on the sharp rocks in the process. He was struggling against time as the air in his lungs burned him from the inside. 

The light was so close to dean as he struggled to escape the tunnel slowly squeezing him to death. His breath had long since run out and the pain coursing through his body was almost too much to bear. He needed to breathe but he was so close, just a few more feet and he would be free.

Paint shot through Dean’s legs as he screamed underwater. Something had grabbed him from behind and was holding him in place. Dean was struggling to continue forward, ripping off his fingernails on the stone tunnel as he kicked at whatever had him in their grasp. He couldn’t even turn around to see what had him in their clutches in the narrow tunnel as he felt the entity begin to claw its way up Dean’s legs, leaving searing tendrils of pain shooting up his body from every movement. Dean dragged himself forward through the lack of oxygen and unbelievable pain with his sole purpose being to reach the source of light.

One sharp tug and Dean felt lighter; he was finally able to push himself forward through the narrowing tunnel. The pain had gone from a sharp, searing pain to an overwhelming throbbing ache as he tried to kick his way through the water; only to realize his legs weren’t working. Confusion clouded Dean’s mind as it finally dawned on him that they had been ripped off. His consciousness was becoming dark and unfocused after being without air for so long; he fought with everything in him to go forward towards the light, towards air, towards freedom.

The narrow tunnel suddenly opened up into a large cavern as Dean squeezed through the small opening. The light source before him flicked and swayed as he swam desperately towards it. Dean reached his freedom as he swam into the clutches of an unspeakable creature hidden in the shadow of its own light. Like a monster of the deep sea it had lured Dean towards his death, his struggle had been for nothing. Dean felt the impact of something hit him from behind as he realized the other creature had been pushing him forward towards his fate. Fangs dug into his neck as Dean felt hot acid fill his veins. If he could have screamed under water surrounded by death he would have. He stared into the light in front of him and watched as he was ripped apart. Dean swore to himself in his last moment; that was the last time he would try to escape from a leak, next time he would leave the job up to the professionals.


End file.
